


Sari

by treeofworlds



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:25:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treeofworlds/pseuds/treeofworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie can't get her wedding sari to drape properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sari

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rizzal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizzal/gifts).



> My tiny friend was muttering Evie/Henry things and I googled kukri knives and discovered they can be used in wedding ceremonies, and it spiralled a little. It might only be a drabble, but the amount of research I've done for it trumps all my other fics. Evie and Henry are actually wearing each others traditional wedding gard because I thought it would be cute.

Evie scowled, fiddling with the edge of her sari. Try as she might, she couldn't get the large piece of fabric to drape across her torso the way she knew it ought to. Why had she picked such an akward wedding outfit? Jacob, lurking in the corner as per usual with his feet kicked up on the table, smiled fondly.

“Having trouble, Miss Frye?”

“Not for much longer.” She replied, refolding the pleats of the material for what felt like the hundredth time.

“This isn't an issue you can fix by stabbing anything, sister dear.” He smirked, and slouched even further.

“Do you care at all for your posture, Jacob? And I was talking about my surname. I shan't be Frye for much longer.” She cursed under her breath as the ivory fabric slid off her shoulder again.

“Ooh, ladylike.”

“Like I care? I just want the sari to look right. I chose to wear it because it's Henry's country's traditional wedding garb. Now it won't sit right.” Evie resisted the urge to collapse into the chair in front of her vanity. She didn't want her sari to crease. “Are you going to help or are you just here to bother me?”

Jacob snorted.

“Just to bother you, of course.” But he stood anyway, and pulled the fabric out of her hand. Before she could blink, it was pleated neatly and draped artfully over her shoulder.

Evie examined her reflection in the quite honestly astonishingly expensive mirror Henry had given her as an engagement gift.

“What do you know? Not just a pretty face after all, Jacob Frye.”

He tipped his hat in her direction. After a moment the smug grin slid from his face and he looked at her with real affection.

“You look beautiful. Henry will be knocked off his feet.”

“I should bloody hope so. He doesn't know I’m wearing a sari. I even have a kukri knife I had made to give him. It's beautiful, Jacob. _Beautiful._ ”

Jacob put his hands carefully on her shoulders.

“Evie. There isn't any need to be nervous. Henry loves you, he wants to marry you, and besides that, a love match is rare enough that you ought to get your pretty, violent self out to that garden and get yourself married to the man you love.” He leaned back and straightened the lapels of his suit.

“Jacob, you really are rather astute at times.” Evie tilted her chin up and studied her brother.

“There's this unprompted tone of surprise in your voice. I feel betrayed. My character has been misjudged! Oh, woe is me!” Jacob collapsed dramatically in the chair he had hauled in from the study. “Oh, I shall never recover!”

“Alright, Jacob. Stop being over dramatic.” She held out an arm to him. “Now give me away. I want to get married now.”

“Specifically to Henry? Because I’m sure I can convince someone on the street to marry you. Someone. Ow!”

Jacob yelped, rubbing the spot on his arm where she had punched him. 

“You did say violent.” She reminded him, smiling sweetly.

“Right. So I did.” He sighed, and gestured. “Come on. Let's go and get you married. At least then it won't be me you're punching.”

Evie slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow.

“It'll still be you, brother, never fear.”

Jacob sighed and mumbled under his breath,  leading her down through the house to the garden, where their small party of wedding guests sat on beautiful white chairs, before an intricate white arch, and beneath that...

Henry.

Dressed in a deep red suit embroidered with delicate gold filigree, he held a golden cane and his gaze...suffice to say that Evie had never known how it felt to be worshipped until that moment. The world seemed to blur at the edges until Henry was a bright star at the centre of her vision and then she was in front of him, and he had a nerve ticking in his jaw, the one that twitched when he was trying not to kiss her, and then she had presented him with his beautiful, beautiful kukri knife, and they had exchanged vows and then. 

They were married.

And she was being kissed as she had never been kissed, and there was a faint buzz of cheering in her ears, but she was mostly swallowed up by Henry as he pressed love against her lips.

When he finally let her breathe, she crowded in close, feeling the pattern of his rabbit quick heartbeat under her palm, and his quickened breath against her face, and she smiled into his neck.

“I love you, husband.”

“I love _you,_ wife _._ ”

“Oh no, they got worse.” said Jacob.

Evie punched him.


End file.
